


Your Eyes Are Where I'm Lost In

by ElektraElentari



Series: Versace On The Floor [2]
Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, First Dates, Hand Jobs, Job Interview, Kinda, Light Angst, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:27:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28559799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElektraElentari/pseuds/ElektraElentari
Summary: On a Monday morning Hwanwoong's life takes a turn for the better.In more ways than one.
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong
Series: Versace On The Floor [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965994
Comments: 19
Kudos: 77





	Your Eyes Are Where I'm Lost In

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is!!! The long awaited continuation of this story!! I'm really so so sorry this took so long, but it's here now and I hope it makes up for the wait.  
> HUGE thanks for my darling friend [Mapachi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mapachi/pseuds/Mapachi) for beta reading and being the most encouraging sweetheart ever.  
> Lastly, same as last time: If you don't like smut don't read and family members *shows exit*.  
> And with that, I present you Versace On The Floor part 2!!!  
> Note: This is a continuation of Let's Take Our Time Tonight so I would recommend reading that first.

For a Monday, this day was going extremely well.

To be fair, it hadn’t been at first, quite the opposite.

Hwanwoong had slept through his alarm (again) and had woken up when his emergency alarm had rung. There was a reason, however, that this was an emergency alarm. It was set so it would ring in case he slept too deeply and missed the proper one, after that one, but late enough to trigger his emergency responses: jump out of bed, get dressed, have a sip or two of coffee and get out. Sure, it took away any enjoyable part a morning could have, which Hwanwoong strongly believed didn’t exist in the first place, but it wasn’t supposed to be enjoyable. The whole purpose was to get him to hurry up if he was getting a little too comfortable.

He’d been especially reminded of that that morning.

He’d fallen out of his bed at the sound of the alarm, a piercing shrieking noise reserved specifically for this alarm, and landed on the harsh floor with a tired groan. If that wasn’t enough, he’d gotten tangled up in his bedsheets that had gotten pulled down with him and that had just made it harder to turn the alarm off.

He’d checked the clock on his phone when he’d finally managed to grab it and doing that had made him hurriedly untangle himself and run out of his bedroom, leaving the sheets on the floor.

In the next twenty minutes he’d managed to burn the two pieces of plain toast he’d decided to have for breakfast, drop his hairbrush because he’d been in a hurry and broken a small bottle of almond oil he kept on his vanity with it, poke both his eyes while trying to put his contact lenses on, trip over his sheets with no one to blame but himself for both abandoning them on the floor and stepping on them, and to top it all off, take an overzealous sip of coffee and promptly spill half of it on his clothes.

Not the best start to a day.

Especially a Monday.

Hwanwoong had been about to give up by that point. He’d walked back into his bedroom to get changed, avoiding the sheets this time, and considered just skipping this interview and spending the rest of the day in bed. He’d started spiralling into a pessimistic mindset as he rummaged through his closet in search of another dress shirt, his brain supplying him with nothing but discouragement. He’d tried to shove them aside, but he’d already been tired due to his failed attempt at caffeination so providing any sort of distraction from them had been hard.

He’d sighed as he found a shirt and pulled it out so he could put it on and leave. Regardless of what his brain told him, he had to start the day. He’d peeled his coffee-stained shirt off and let it fall to the ground carelessly, the white of the shirt blending into the white of the sheets. Eventually he felt bad about potentially staining the bedding he’d just changed and picked it back up only to throw it on the floor a little further away.

He’d paused for a moment, staring at the sheets and let his mind drift and think about what, or rather _who_ , had caused him to change them.

Calmness had washed over him suddenly, and he’d turned back to his closet, his clean shirt still in his hands, knowing exactly where to look so he would find what he’d just thought of.

The black Versace suit jacket had been right where he’d known it would be. It had become somewhat of a habit of his to think back at it and have to look at it to prove to himself that it was real, that its owner hadn’t been a dream his mind had created to comfort him. Every other trace of him had disappeared, the only proof that he’d ever existed were the suit jacket and the fading marks on Hwanwoong’s neck.

Hwanwoong had gently brushed his fingertips over them, careful so he wouldn’t smudge the makeup he’d covered them with. He’d wondered if it was common to think about a one-night stand so much. Wondered, even though he’d already known it wasn’t. Youngjo had been more than a one-night stand to him, despite him never getting the chance to tell him so.

And now all that he had left of him were these marks that would soon fade and the jacket.

His eyes had lingered on it for a little longer before he’d torn his gaze away and finally put his shirt on, remembering his urgency. The thoughts hadn’t left him however, but, if he was being honest, he’d welcomed them more than his previous catastrophising. A strange urge had gripped him and hesitantly, he’d taken the jacket off its hanger and pulled it on over his shirt.

It was a bit big on him, the shoulders sagging slightly over his own, the sleeves brushing against his palms and it came down much longer in comparison to when Youngjo had worn it, but maybe that was why it had made him feel safer. It didn’t come even close to comparing to the actual feeling of Youngjo’s arms around him, but at least he was being covered by something reminiscent of him.

Remembering his interview, he’d run out of his room and out his front door, grabbing his binder on the way.

Commuting had been relatively easy. He’d been expecting to miss his bus with how everything had been going so far, but he’d made it to the stop just in time to stop it from leaving and board successfully. His seatmate had smelled a bit, but nothing too bad, so he’d counted the bus ride as the first win of the day.

This interview had been very meaningful to him. For the first time, he’d been called back for a second meeting with the company representatives, which meant they’d narrowed down on their candidates and considered him. As much as it had excited him, however, it had made him feel hopeless, thinking that even if he did go, he wouldn’t get chosen anyway and it had been a miracle he’d even been invited for a second interview. That doubt had started to kick in again as he’d approached the building, especially when he’d finally been standing outside the front entrance, watching employees enter on their way to their jobs and feeling like they were from a whole other world. There was no way he belonged in the same place as all these knowledgeable, expensive-looking people.

But his dreams were waiting in that building.

That was what he’d told himself, and his feet had regained their ability to move at last. He’d pulled the suit jacket tighter around him as he’d walked through the glass door, stopping at the front desk to submit his name, ID, and evidence of being invited for the interview.

The wait hadn’t been too hard. The other two candidates, who he’d met at the waiting area, hadn’t been interested in him or one another, so he’d taken the time to relax knowing that hadn’t been late and prepare himself for the interview.

He’d been called second to meet the interviewers. The man who had just exited the room had seemed satisfied with how his had gone, causing Hwanwoong to already lose some hope. He seemed a lot more experienced than him, not to mention confident. Meanwhile Hwanwoong’s doubt could probably have been detected from miles away. Part of him had wanted to shrink into his seat until he became one with the fabric when his name had been called, but he’d given himself a mental slap and told himself to get up and face this interview.

If he gave up so easily at the fear of rejection and failure, he was never going to experience acceptance and success.

Clutching his binder tightly he’d walked through the office’s doors and taken a seat in front of the two interviewers. To his relief, they’d been the same two people he’d met for his first interview at that company, a man and a woman, both in their thirties. He’d felt a lot more comfortable not having to meet new people.

“Good morning, Mr. Yeo,” the woman had greeted him with a friendly smile.

“Good morning,” he’d replied, bowing slightly to both of them in his seat.

“I hope you’ve been well since we last met,” the man had said.

 _‘Not really,’_ he’d thought, but responded with, “Yes, I have. I hope you have been too.”

They’d appreciated his good wishes and proceeded with the actual interview. The questions hadn’t been anything he hadn’t already been prepared for, close to the ones from the first one but a bit more serious and insightful. It had been obvious that this round was a lot closer to the actual job.

Hwanwoong had done his best to answer as well as he could. He’d still felt like his portfolio was on the small side, especially when he’d thought about the other two candidates he’d seen, but he’d held himself with as much confidence he could muster, and played with the fabric of the suit jacket’s sleeves where they touched his fingers, hoping the interviewers wouldn’t notice.

That small stress outlet alone had helped him ground himself enough to get through the whole interview until he’d been dismissed, and he hadn’t thought much of it until he was back in his seat at the waiting room, between the two other (much more suitable in his opinion) candidates. He’d wondered briefly if it was the existence of the jacket on him itself that had given him that support, or the fact that it belonged to Youngjo.

He’d barely processed the interview beginning by the time it had ended. The two interviewers had thanked him for coming and sent him back outside to wait. He’d gathered his few things and stepped outside, exhaling deeply when he’d finally sat back in the chair he’d been occupying when he’d arrived as if he had been holding his breath for the entirety of the interview. The woman on his left had turned around and looked at him disdainfully before she’d also been summoned inside.

Hwanwoong had pulled the suit jacket closer around him, engulfing his small body in the fabric. He’d remembered the last time this fabric had been wrapped around him, a moment that hadn’t lasted long before it had fallen to the floor, one of the first articles of clothing to do so that night.

He’d taken his phone out to check for messages and missed calls since his phone had been on silent for the entire duration of the day to keep him from getting distracted. His friends had been silent for the majority of the morning out of respect towards his interview, and he appreciated that. He’d only had one message from Dongju asking if he’d wanted to go for coffee, which he’d accepted, and one from the supermarket in his neighbourhood about a 40% sale on detergents.

He’d read some news articles while waiting to pass the time until finally the woman had returned from her interview and sat back down. She’d looked at him briefly again and he’d pretended he hadn’t noticed. He’d wished she would mind her own business instead of giving him condescending glances every few minutes.

It had been hard to tell how much time had passed before the door to the meeting room had opened again and the female interviewer had stepped out. Hwanwoong had rapidly put his phone away and tidied up his appearance at the sight, wanting to look presentable. He’d caught sight of the other two candidates scoffing or rolling their eyes at his movements. He’d wanted to be accepted solely so he could see how they would react at that moment.

“First of all, we would like to thank all three of you for coming today,” the male interviewer had said, “It was a pleasure to meet all of you.”

Hwanwoong had smiled at them in gratitude. The woman had turned to him then and he’d gulped, hopefully not too visibly.

“Mr. Yeo, we’ll see you first,” she’d told him.

To say he hadn’t been expecting to get called first would be an understatement. Nevertheless, he’d composed himself and followed the two interviewers back into the meeting room. _‘Probably getting the rejections out of the way first,’_ he’d thought as he’d sat back in the same chair he’d occupied previously.

“Let me begin by saying that we were very happy to see you again today,” the male interviewer had said, and basically confirmed Hwanwoong’s suspicions.

“You made a good impression on us during the first round of interviews,” he’d continued, “Not to mention that your resume is very promising, as is the video of your choreography that you sent us. We wouldn’t have called you back for this round if we didn’t believe that you had something to offer to the company, after all.”

Hwanwoong had felt some confidence hearing their words. At least they were letting him down with some words of encouragement, he’d thought. It was more than most businesses he’d tried for had done.

“So, taking all of this into consideration, in addition to today’s interview,” the man had concluded, “We would like to offer you a position in the company.”

Hwanwoong hadn’t believed what he was hearing at first. At some point during his years alone he’d become so accustomed to failure and disappointment that he had automatically begun expecting them in every situation. It had been so long since he’d had any positive feelings about an interview that he’d practically forgotten that they were possible. And all of a sudden he’d been presented with success after so long that he couldn’t believe it to be true.

He’d sat still for a few moments, staring at the two interviewers. He hadn’t been sure what he’d been expecting them to do, tell him that they’d been joking, repeat what they’d said and make it real or ask him what had gotten into him. All he’d known was that at long last something had had a good outcome for him, and it hadn’t mattered that he hadn’t been able to remember the last time that had happened.

“We look forward to seeing what you will bring to the company,” the woman had said, “Mr. Park is very excited to work with you.”

“Likewise,” Hwanwoong had replied after composing himself and regaining his ability to speak.

“We’ll send you the documents you’ll have to take care of so you can start as soon as possible,” she’d told him, “Is the email address you’ve given us still valid?”

“Yes,” Hwanwoong had nodded.

“That’s good,” she’d written something down and then looked back up at him, smiling, “Well, that’s all, Mr. Yeo. Thank you for coming today.”

“Thank you for this opportunity,” Hwanwoong had risen from his seat and bowed to the two people before him, “I won’t disappoint you.”

When he’d left their office, he’d taken care to look back at the two other applicants, one of which was being called inside at that moment. He hadn’t had it in him to be mad or wish them bad luck, however, despite how they’d treated him during the short time they’d spent together in that waiting room. He’d known better than anyone what losing a job meant, and he wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. Instead, he’d given them a friendly nod and marched out of the company building with his head high, looking back at it and telling himself, _“This is now my work,”_ before calling Dongju and asking if he’d waned o have their coffee outing sooner.

That was how he’d found himself where he currently was, sitting in a coffee shop with Keonhee and Dongju, sipping on a cup of ice coffee and listening to his friends plan a celebration for him for finally getting a job.

“What is your position, again?” Dongju asked, taking a sip of his frappuccino.

“Assistant dance teacher,” Hwanwoong replied.

Sure, it wasn’t the prestigious job he’d envisioned when he’d moved out and started searching for one, but everyone started somewhere and he could slowly work his way up. Being hired after such a long time was more than enough for him at the moment.

“That’s too long to put on a banner,” Keonhee said, scratching his head in thought, “We can print it on T-shirts instead.”

“Or on balloons,” Dongju piped in excitedly and the taller looked at him like he’d had an epiphany.

Hwanwoong shook his head but didn’t want to say anything and ruin their fun. He could tell that they were just as excited as he was and were showing him that in their own way. He knew they would never hold this party anyway, and that was primarily because they had very few other acquaintances that they could invite. Their mutual friends were Dongju’s brother, and Keonhee knew many people who didn’t know Hwanwoong and therefore would not be interested in attending a party about him.

He drank some more of his coffee and listened to them talk animatedly. He thought of the paperwork that awaited him when he got home and felt excited, two things he’d never thought he would ever put in the same sentence. But this paperwork was about his first job, and it was worth any boredom. The faster it was done the faster he could start and finally stop relying on his parents’ money. That was all he’d wanted for so long and it was now closer than it had ever been before.

He smiled and sat back in his chair.

“He’s so cute when he’s smiling like an idiot,” Keonhee commented and snapped him out of his thoughts.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood or I would have hit you,” he told him.

“You wouldn’t have been able to reach me either way,” Keonhee stuck his tongue out at him.

“Stop acting like a five-year-old,” Hwanwoong rolled his eyes at him.

He reached for his cup and pulled the sleeve of the suit jacket up so he could grip it better.

“No offense but that jacket looks so bad on you,” Dongju said, watching him and wrinkling his nose.

“You meant every offense on planet Earth, don’t lie to me, Dongju,” Hwanwoong replied, only a little defensive.

“He’s right, though,” Keonhee frowned, “It’s way too big on you.”

“It’s not that bad,” Hwanwoong pulled it tighter around him, protectively.

He hadn’t minded it when they’d been talking nonsense before, but this felt a little closer to him and he didn’t want his friends to mention the jacket. It had brought him comfort during the day and, although he didn’t allow himself to fully embrace this thought, had brought him some kind of luck with the interview.

Regardless of whether he believed in superstition or not, wearing the jacket had given him confidence and calmed him down, which had in turn definitely affected his performance during the ordeal. It may not have magical powers or anything along those lines, but he couldn’t deny that he had grown attached to it in the short time he’d had it.

“It looks like it’s not even yours,” the taller man insisted.

Hwanwoong almost responded to the comment, denying it, but he stopped himself knowing that it would be a lie if he did. It was exactly that silence and hesitation that his friends needed to become suspicious.

“That’s because it isn’t!” Dongju gasped, one of his hands coming up to cover his mouth, his mischievous grin still obvious, “Whose is it?”

“I never said it wasn’t mine,” Hwanwoong tried to save himself.

“Don’t get defensive now,” the younger man pressed, “Come on, tell us!”

Keonhee gasped suddenly, seemingly having put two and two together, and Hwanwoong regretted ever telling him anything.

“It’s that guy’s!” the taller exclaimed, not caring at all to keep his voice down and causing the other customers of the coffee shop to turn around in the direction of their table.

Hwanwoong sunk down into his seat, trying to vanish from sight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said in a last attempt.

“Yes, you do,” Keonhee insisted, “Mr. best-sex-you’ve-ever-had.”

The shorter man sprung up immediately at those words and shushed his friend, flustered. “Keep your voice down!” he scolded him, “And don’t say stuff like that in front of the baby.”

Dongju whined and reached over the table to slap his arm. “I’m not a baby!” he exclaimed.

“So it _is_ his,” Keonhee raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Okay, fine, it is,” Hwanwoong replied, unable to deny the statement any longer.

“I thought he left before you woke up,” Dongju said.

“He forgot it, I don’t really know what happened,” Hwanwoong explained, “I saw it this morning and thought of putting it on. Don’t ask me why, I have no idea.”

“How romantic,” the younger teased him.

“I insist you should go after him or something,” Keonhee told him.

“How?” Hwanwoong asked, “He didn’t leave his number and I have nothing about him other than his first name and the fact that he’s an architect.”

“Go to the bar where you met him. He might come back.”

“The chances of that are so low I could be waiting until the end of time,” Hwanwoong sighed, “Besides, he left without saying goodbye the next morning. Isn’t that one of the signs of an asshole one-night stand?”

“No, the assholes are those who stay and insist you make them breakfast in the morning,” Keonhee shook his head, “You asked him to stay the night and he did. If you’d asked him to, he would have stayed for longer.”

“He was a good guy,” Dongju agreed, “I’m on Keonhee’s side. You should look for him.”

“What’s his horoscope?” Keonhee asked, to Hwanwoong’s disbelief completely seriously.

“Keonhee,” he sighed, “Think for a moment. At what point do you think that I would have asked him for his horoscope?”

“It’s important information!” his friend insisted.

“I’m not going to talk about this anymore,” Hwanwoong groaned, “We slept together, it was a one-night thing, it’s over. End of story.”

He’d finished his coffee at that point, so he could only play with the ice in the cup and his straw while looking away from his friends. He could feel their gazes on him and knew that they weren’t convinced by his words. It wasn’t like he was either. He could pretend all he wanted like Youngjo had been a simple fling that he hadn’t cared about after their encounter that Friday night, but that wouldn’t make it true, and it wouldn’t make him miss him any less.

He sighed sadly and put his cup back onto the table. “Anyway, I have paperwork to do, so let’s get going,” he said, reaching for his wallet, “My treat. And hopefully my last time buying coffee with my parents’ money.”

“Hey, no, let us pay to congratulate you,” Keonhee pushed his hands down and into his lap, “We’ve got this.”

Dongju nodded as he quickly drank the remainder of his drink. He always took the longest time and ended up having to drink most of it in one sip before they left. That usually resulted in him getting a sugar rush, though, as he ordered incredibly sweet beverages, and made him incredibly hyper and energetic. Hwanwoong was a little glad that they would be parting ways soon, not in the right mood to deal with a hyperactive Dongju. He would leave that task to his brother when his friend got home.

He was starting to feel the aftermath of the day weighing on him and couldn’t wait to go home and eat something while lying in front of the TV for the rest of the day. He could push his chores further back into the day, maybe even to the next one. He felt like he deserved a break.

He watched as his friends split the bill among the two of them and got up from his seat. “Thanks,” he said. He really hoped he could be the one to pay for them next time they met up.

“Don’t mention it,” Dongju waved him off, “Just don’t forget to come to our party.”

“Sure, sure,” Hwanwoong pat his shoulder.

“See you, Woong,” Keonhee said, waving goodbye at him.

“See you, guys,” he replied.

Dongju blew him a kiss and he and Keonhee set off in the direction of the nearest subway station.

Hwanwoong readjusted his grip on his binder and started walking. He was close enough to his apartment to not need to take the subway, but he would have to catch a bus to limit the walking distance. He hoped he wasn’t too late for it and wouldn’t have to wait the extra half hour it took for the next one to arrive.

He picked up speed as he walked, suddenly overcome by anxiety. He crashed into another pedestrian almost immediately and apologised, walking with his head down in shame afterwards. This was something he didn’t think he would ever get used to about living in such a big city: just how many people were around at all times. He didn’t think he’d ever seen the streets empty, not even in the dead of night. Commuting during the day was a real nightmare.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and clicked on the public transit app he had downloaded to check if it was worth hurrying in the first place. He slowed his steps as he watched the small pinwheel turn in front of the white backdrop and begged it to load faster. The little smiley face in the centre did everything but cheer him up. He hated that face.

As he continued walking, shaking his phone and simultaneously checking the time, he smelt something. The scent of a cologne brushed past his nostrils before vanishing behind him, blending in with the crowd of people. For the brief moment it had passed by him, his mind had graced him with memories. He remembered smelling that same cologne as he was pressing someone against the wall of his bedroom and then again on the skin of a body on top of his, mixed with sweat and accompanied by heavy breathing against his chest.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

He told himself that there was no way this had really happened, but he couldn’t convince himself, not really. He was certain of it.

The cologne he’d just caught a whiff of was the one Youngjo had worn.

He turned around and looked in the direction the person wearing it had come from, but they weren’t visible anymore. He knew it was ridiculous to be led on by something like this. It wasn’t uncommon for more than one person to wear the same cologne after all. But he felt such a pull towards this specific one that he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering and thinking of them.

Because what if it _was_ Youngjo? What if it really was him and he missed the one chance he might ever get at reconnecting with him.

He looked down at his phone at the now loaded app and thought about how easy it would be to go home and forget this had even happened, to brush it off as a side-effect of his tiredness. The bus was going to arrive at his stop in six minutes and he could still make it if he hurried up a little.

But he found his feet rooted to the ground and unable to move. The suit jacket he was wearing felt lighter all of a sudden, like a pair of wings leading him in the other direction of the street. He had a feeling that he was going to regret not following it.

The number switched from six to five minutes and he looked at it for only a second before turning his phone off and turning around.

He pushed past the crowd of pedestrians and paid no mind to the ones who yelled after him. He muttered countless, “Excuse me”s to people he shuffled past and tried not to trip over anything or someone’s feet as he ran. Running wasn’t exactly the right word to use for it, but it felt like running with the way his heart was beating and his adrenaline was spiking.

He stopped only when he saw a woman pushing a pram coming in his direction and moved to the side so she could pass. She smiled thankfully at him and he nodded in response before turning back to the incoming crowd.

And to his dismay saw someone else also running in the distance.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw them, because it made his irrational decision worth it.

Only a few metres away from him was Youngjo, looking through the people walking ahead of him as he hurriedly rushed across the pavement.

Hwanwoong felt like either his heart was going to stop or he was going to burst into tears. He’d thought this moment would never come again, but here he was now, so close to the man he’d missed so much and hadn’t realised how much he’d needed until he’d left. On this day that had seemed so gloomy in the morning he was the happiest he’d been in a long time.

He stepped back out into the crowd and let his feet carry him to the other man. It felt so right that he couldn’t think about anything else anymore, and when his eyes locked with Youngjo’s he really thought his heart had stopped beating only to start again at ten times the speed right after.

In seconds, he was standing in front of him and he wished this time would be the last they would have to be separated.

Youngjo looked even more stunning in the light of day. He glowed under the sunlight, like a deity, an ethereal existence. Although Hwanwoong was certain that one of the reasons he was seeing him in that way was his inexplicable desire for him, he also knew very well that it was beyond even his imagination to create someone this amazing. This chance meeting was better than anything he could have ever dreamed of, which must mean that it was real, and yet he was having such a hard time believing it.

Until Youngjo opened his mouth and spoke, and his voice made him feel like he was flying, remembering how he’d fallen apart at this voice, and doing so once again.

“Hwanwoong,” the man spoke, just his name, but all Hwanwoong needed to confirm the reality of this occurence.

“Youngjo,” he replied, unable to think of anything else other than this one word.

“I wasn’t expecting to run into you here,” Youngjo said, and he sounded just as surprised as he was, “Or ever again, for that matter.”

“Neither was I,” Hwanwoong felt like he could cry as he uttered those words, because they weren’t true anymore. He was standing right on front of Youngjo and he was going to make sure he would do so again.

“I…” Youngjo looked like he didn’t know what to say, and Hwanwoong couldn’t blame him.

The taller man ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “I’m so happy I did,” he said.

“So am I,” Hwanwoong replied, “You can’t imagine how happy.”

“God,” Youngjo exclaimed, “It’s so good to see you, Hwanwoong.”

The other merely nodded. So much was going on in his head, and yet he didn’t know what to say first. Three sentences were on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be let out.

One telling Youngjo what he’d wanted to say ever since their night together, the words he hadn’t been able to say before drifting off to sleep.

The other curious if he would want to spend some time together, maybe go on a walk or just talk right there, in the middle of the pavement among all these people.

The last one was the shortest of the three, simply asking Youngjo to hold him.

He felt like he was going to burst at any moment and say all three of them at the same time, just a meaningless jumble of words.

Once again, Youngjo beat him to talking, though. He chuckled and pointed at the suit jacket he was wearing. “I think that’s mine,” he said.

Hwanwoong closed his hands around the fabric of the sleeves that was brushing against them. He felt his cheeks and the tips of his ears get heated up and hoped it wasn’t too visible.

“Yeah,” he said, flustered, “You forgot it.”

He thought that he should probably return it to him, but he found himself suddenly unwilling to take it off. How ironic when the whole point of him keeping Youngjo’s jacket had been the hopes of a reunion where the other man would ask for it back.

But he didn’t. “I recognised it,” he said instead, “That was how I saw you. I know it’s silly, there are so many suit jackets like it but I had this feeling that it was mine.”

“I did from your cologne," Hwanwoong replied, “I thought the same thing you did. I just felt so drawn to it I couldn’t help looking for you.” He was in disbelief at how similar they’d reacted to potentially finding one another again. In the time they’d spent apart he’d often thought about how much he longed to see Youngjo one more time, but he’d also considered the possibility that the other didn’t feel that way. Perhaps to him he’d really been just a one-night stand. Right then, however, it felt like fate, like they were meant to meet a second time, and maybe even multiples times after that. With the way he was currently feeling, he hoped that was the case.

“You can keep it, though,” Youngjo said, “The jacket. You look really cute in it.”

“It’s too big,” Hwanwoong retorted with a chuckle, “It looked better on you than it ever will on me. I should return it.”

“It’s okay, I’m in no hurry,” Youngjo said quickly, “Besides you’re wearing it right now, it would be a shame. You can give it to me some other time.”

Hwanwoong understood the implication of those words. There was no other explanation for them, Youngjo wanted to see him again. A third time.

“I can do that,” he replied.

“Actually, Hwanwoong,” Youngjo started.

The aforementioned man looked up at him, waiting for his next words, but Youngjo hesitated. He looked to the side, one of his hands coming up to comb through his hair nervously. Eventually, he took a deep breath and, fixing Hwanwoong with a determined gaze, said, “Would you like to do something? Get some coffee maybe?”

“I just had coffee,” Hwanwoong said and mentally slapped himself. Of all things he could have said, his brain had truly picked the dumbest one amidst his shock.

“Lunch then,” Youngjo offered, “Or early dinner? If you want to, of course.”

Hwanwoong smiled and finally sensed his body loosening up, letting go of the suit jacket’s sleeves. He was sure he looked even more flustered than before, but he didn’t mind. Everything was unravelling in front of him better than any fantasy, more perfectly than daydreams. He felt like he had nothing to worry about anymore.

“I would like that,” he said, nodding.

Youngjo smiled back and the butterflies in his stomach all took flight together, spreading all over his body.

“I know somewhere nice,” the other man said, “Unless you have something in mind.”

“I’m sure it’s perfect, Youngjo,” Hwanwoong responded.

“Should I drive us there then?” Youngjo asked.

He led Hwanwoong to his car. Hwanwoong didn’t know why but he was surprised at the sight of the same car he’d been in when they’d gone to his apartment on Friday night. It wasn’t like people changed cars every few days, definitely not when they were as good as Youngjo’s was. Perhaps it was just one more piece that confirmed the reality of everything that was happening for him. Anything reminiscent of their night caused him such bliss that it was almost intoxicating.

He sat in the passenger seat, in the same one where he’d first kissed Youngjo over the gear stick, where he’d been intimate with him for the first time. He was so lost in the memories that he could almost feel Youngjo’s soft lips on his and his smooth fingers running along his skin. He remembered his breaths falling onto his face and how they’d hitched when he’d touched him.

The urge to recreate that moment was so strong that he had to tell himself to behave and not do anything that could potentially ruin the serenity and beauty of their circumstances. They weren’t going somewhere for a round of sex this time, but on what sounded oddly close to a date. He would have to keep his desires in check for the moment.

He fastened his seatbelt and gripped his binder tightly in his hands. He heard Youngjo do the same next to him, the jingle of keys and finally the engine coming to life.

As the car started moving, he kept his eyes down, looking at his feet. He didn’t say anything, couldn’t think of any words that would be appropriate for the moment. His phone made a few sounds, most likely messages from his friends letting him know where they were or sharing something from their journey home, but he didn’t check it. He didn’t want to seem even slightly impolite in front of Youngjo.

He remembered suddenly how embarrassed he’d been when the other had cleaned him up that night and how ridiculous he’d felt afterwards, knowing that he had already seen him literally stripped naked and he had no reason to be ashamed and flustered like that. This was very familiar. He didn’t know why he was speechless and tense like this when it was his and Youngjo’s next interaction after sleeping together.

He couldn’t help it and let out a small chuckle.

“What’s making you laugh?” Youngjo asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

Hwanwoong looked up and saw the slight curve of his lips. “Nothing,” he replied. Then, cautiously so as to not startle him, he placed his hand on top of Youngjo’s on the gear stick.

The man’s hand seized up momentarily at the unexpected contact, but he relaxed right after. He didn’t make any further movements until they stopped at a red light. He switched to neutral and took the smaller man’s hand in his. It was Hwanwoong’s turn to be surprised. Youngjo’s touch felt like silk against his skin and he squeezed his hand where the two of them rested in front of the lever, intertwined.

The light switched back to green too quickly and they had to let go so Youngjo could start driving again.

Hwanwoong kept his hand on top of his for the remainder of their drive.

They pulled up in front of a restaurant in an area Hwanwoong had never been to before, and could tell why. The restaurant itself looked like something out of SKY Castle or a movie about royalty. He looked down at his trousers and started smoothing out invisible crinkles. He ran a hand through his hair to try and style it before realising he’d probably just made it even worse than it already had been.

Youngjo seemed unfazed as he pulled his keys out of the ignition. He turned to Hwanwoong as he pushed the door on his side open. “Everything okay?” he asked, seeing his troubled expression.

“I’m feeling a little underdressed, so to say,” the other replied, trying to think of a way to paraphrase, _‘I think I’m too poor for this place.’_

“You look amazing,” Youngjo reassured him, “Trust me.”

While not entirely convinced, Hwanwoong sucked in a breath and opened his own door as well, stepping out of the car. He gestured to his binder and placed it on the seat after Youngjo told him it was okay to do so before closing the door and standing by the other’s side, allowing him to guide him to the inside of the restaurant.

He felt even more underdressed once they were inside. There was a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling that he couldn’t take his eyes off of, and all the tables had pristine white tablecloths on them, as well as placement mats in front of each chair and impressive centrepieces. He was willing to bet that one of those mats cost more than his monthly rent.

They were shown to a table for true, thankfully not too close to any other customers, meaning Hwanwoong could worry a little less about his dark roots that were showing. Bleached hair was a commitment, he should have listened to Dongju when he’d told him so. But he hadn’t, and here he was now, in an expensive restaurant with the man he wanted to impress, looking like a chewed-up dog toy.

He tugged the suit jacket closer around him, only to feel its size even more than before. Another thing that would surely be noticed by anyone who looked in his direction.

Sensing his discomfort, Youngjo leaned over the table to place a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

Hwanwoong didn’t want to sound petty, but he doubted he had to worry about how he was dressed. He looked so smart that he might not have believe that he was an architect. He seemed more like a businessman in his suit and tie.

Hwanwoong nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I just wish I’d taken more care of myself before heading out this morning.”

Youngjo’s gaze softened. “To me you’re the most beautiful person in this room,” he said.

Hwanwoong probably would have melted into a puddle of goo had a waiter not appeared to take their orders. He couldn’t bring himself to read the menu, so he ordered the same as Youngjo and hoped he would be able to pay for at least the starters. So much for the coffee being the last thing he was going to pay with his parents’ money for.

“So,” Youngjo said after the waiter had left, “How have you been since we last saw each other?”

“I’ve been okay,” Hwanwoong replied, choosing to skip the unpleasant parts, “I got a job.”

Youngjo’s face lit up as if he’d been the one receiving it. “That’s amazing!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, I’m very excited for it,” the other replied, “What about you?”

“I’ve been okay too,” Youngjo said, “Mostly been working. We’re still busy so it’s been hectic. I’m happy we ran into one another.”

“The feelings are mutual,” Hwanwoong told him.

He lay one of his arms on the table, allowing Youngjo to do the same so they could hold hands again.

The taller man chuckled. “I never thought I was going to be doing something like this with someone I was supposed to have a one-night stand with,” he said.

“You got me there,” Hwanwoong agreed, “I can’t believe I thought I wouldn’t want to see you again.”

“God, everything happened so fast that night,” Youngjo said, “I realised I don’t even know your full name or how old you are.”

Hwanwoong had come to that realisation the very next day of their encounter. He’d thought of looking for Youngjo on social media, already missing him immensely, only to find out that he didn’t know how to look for him. There were many Youngjos, too many, and searching for him with only that was pointless.

“In that case,” he said, “Yeo Hwanwoong. Twenty-two years old.”

“Kim Youngjo,” the other replied, “Twenty-five.”

To Hwanwoong this information felt like opening a treasure chest.

The same waiter from before brought a bottle of red wine to their table and poured some into their glasses. It tasted sweet, but nothing compared to the memory of what Youngjo’s lips had tasted like. He watched the other man drink some from his glass as well and hoped it wouldn’t be long until he could taste them again.

Despite how much he wanted to, Hwanwoong didn’t bring their night together up for the biggest part of their meal. They made casual talk, getting to know each other better. They laughed at their stories, shared their thoughts on the food, all of which was delectable, and Youngjo listened earnestly as Hwanwoong talked about the job he was starting at. He explained different technicalities and dance matters, Youngjo pushing him to continue even after he’d apologised for, in his opinion, rambling and oversharing. He loved the accepting feeling he gave him, like he could talk about anything and Youngjo would listen and pay attention to it, even asking questions and trying to learn about it if it was something he didn’t have much knowledge on.

He let him talk about architecture as well. He learned about pergolas, bathroom designs and minimalism, and tried to offer any help he could when Youngjo talked about struggling with the ceiling of the courtroom his company was designing. They even drew designs on paper napkins, something he didn’t think the restaurant staff had seen many adults do, but whose opinions he couldn’t care less about. He let Youngjo guide him as he drew a top view design of his apartment, laughing when he accidentally made too many lines for a wall and turned it into a window.

By the time their desserts arrived they had only stopped talking so they could eat their food, and even in those short breaks, Hwanwoong had missed Youngjo’s voice. It felt like not even a single day had passed since they’d last seen each other.

Hwanwoong licked crème patisserie off his spoon and allowed his mind to linger on that thought. He’d missed Youngjo for so long and now he had him again and didn’t want to let him go. If he let himself fantasise, he could tell that neither did Youngjo. And it made him wonder, just like he had all the time they’d spent apart, why he _had_. If they were going to so easily pick up and feel so much for one another, then…

“Why did you leave?” he said out loud before he could stop himself.

Youngjo looked up from his dessert, his expression darkening. He averted his gaze immediately, probably having understood what he’d meant with that question.

Nevertheless, Hwanwoong elaborated on it.

“That night,” he said, “Why did you leave without even saying goodbye?”

Youngjo set his spoon down on his plate.

“I…” he started, “I don’t know what we have right now and I don’t want to ruin whatever this is but… For all I know you still see me the way you did that night and I don’t know if that’s enough for me. I was fascinated by you when we met at the bar and I thought sleeping together was all I wanted. But when we got to your place was when I think I realised that it was more than that. And then you fell asleep in my arms… I understood that I couldn’t give you the one-night experience you’d wanted. I knew in the morning that if I stayed any longer, I wouldn’t be able to leave.”

Not for the first time that night Hwanwoong felt at a loss for words. This time, however, it wasn’t because he was hearing something foreign to him. Not completely, that is. Because this was the exact same way he felt and the way he’d thought Youngjo saw him. Yet he was learning that those emotions had been mutual and that if they’d communicated a bit better that night they might have ended up where they were now much earlier.

In the time they’d spent apart he’d thought so much about the other man that he’d started thinking about all the reasons why he might not have wanted to stay, and not even for a second had he imagined that this might be it. He’d fallen into a dark hole several times, telling himself that he didn’t deserve him anyway, that Youngjo would never see someone like him in the way he longed for him to, and he’d believed it. He’d kept telling himself that he was just a naïve poor boy living off of his parents who couldn’t even find a job in the one field he was confident in.

This whole day felt like a form of catharsis. All those things had been proven false and he felt so light suddenly that he could have cried.

“That’s exactly what I thought,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I thought you would never see me as more than a quick fuck.”

“No, that’s not true,” Youngjo gasped, reaching for his hand that still hadn’t let go of the spoon he’d been holding, “You mean much more than that to me, Hwanwoong. I almost stayed so many times while I was getting dressed, I even sat in my car for ten minutes contemplating knocking on your door again. That’s how I forgot my jacket, I was just so distracted, trying to talk myself into leaving. I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing you again but I didn’t want to impose myself on you.”

“I would have welcomed you back with open arms,” Hwanwoong replied, “I’m sorry I never told you.”

“I’m sorry _I_ didn’t,” the other said.

“Well, there’s no use crying over spilled milk,” Hwanwoong said, composing himself, “We can still make up for all the lost time now.”

“I would like that a lot,” Youngjo responded, smiling at him softly.

Hwanwoong didn’t think it was the little bit of wine he’d had that made him think he could see jewels shining in his eyes.

It was evening by then, the sun long gone and the sky a dark colour. They didn’t need to check the time to know that it was late into the day. It was probably time for them to leave. Most of the other people that had been at the restaurant when they’d arrived had already left and some of the waiters had started looking at their table as they walked by, waiting for them to ask for the bill and leave.

After they eventually deciding to head out, Youngjo caught the attention of one and settled the payment. Hwanwoong felt bad that the other was paying for him once again, and offered to cover as much of his dishes as he could, both of them knowing that he couldn’t manage his half of the bill but not mentioning it. “You can take me out when you get your first pay check,” Youngjo told him, winking.

The implication of another date didn’t go unnoticed by Hwanwoong. “Just so you know, we’re having burgers when I treat you,” he said, causing the other man to laugh as he handed the waiter his credit card. Hwanwoong could listen to him laugh all day.

Once everything was settled and the staff member had wished them a good evening, the two men exited the building.

Hwanwoong automatically moved in the direction he remembered Youngjo parking his car, but he stopped when the man took his hand and caused him to look back at him.

“Can I kiss you, Hwanwoong?” Youngjo asked, “Not as your one-night stand but as the man who just took you on a date?”

His words sent tingles running through Hwanwoong’s body as he thought of how miserable he’d been in the beginning of the day but now wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. “Please,” he replied.

They closed the gap between them at the same time. Youngjo leaned down and Hwanwoong stretched up and their lips met right in the middle. Kissing Youngjo felt like coming home after a long day, finding a place that brought him such comfort and happiness that he couldn’t explain it. Nothing mattered other than them, and it felt like the ground beneath him was spinning and rising.

He wrapped his arms around Youngjo’s neck as the other pulled him closer by his waist and held him tightly, the kiss deepening. Their lips danced against each other, desperate and fast but still finding that same synergy they’d had the night when they’d first met.

In that moment, Hwanwoong didn’t care that they were in front of a restaurant, he wanted to give himself to Youngjo fully again and feel him like he’d longed to the whole time they’d been separated.

He tugged at Youngjo’s lip lightly, causing him to gasp. They pulled apart at that, but their eyes didn’t leave one another, both of them taking the time to process what had just happened.

The moment it dawned on them they chuckled softly, holding each other as if they were the most precious thing that they didn’t want to ever let go of.

“This was even better than what I remembered,” Hwanwoong said in a low voice.

“I could just keep kissing you,” Youngjo said back, “I missed you so much.”

Hwanwoong placed his head on his shoulder and exhaled deeply. It just felt so right for them to be like this he didn’t want to move. Familiar desires and longing wash over him and he got flustered at the sentiment, like wanting this from Youngjo was shameful after the way they’d met.

“I can take you home,” Youngjo said without breaking the embrace.

Knowing that they would have to part ways that day as well was hard enough for Hwanwoong, but now it was almost there. He told himself to just get it over with, like ripping a band-aid off, but couldn’t bring himself too. He held onto Youngjo a little tighter and closed his eyes, as if that would make the moment last forever.

“Or,” Youngjo’s words caused him to reopen them immediately, “We could go to my place.”

Hwanwoong pulled away briefly to look at him, to make sure that he was being serious. He found nothing that would indicate that the other was lying and his insides got warmer. Youngjo smirked at him, making his offer even more legitimate. “How does that sound?” he asked.

“That sounds incredible,” the other replied honestly.

With matching expressions of excitement and a slight skip in their step they got inside Youngjo’s car. This was a different drive from the ones they’d shared before, and that was due to the fact that this time Hwanwoong knew that he and Youngjo were both thinking of the exact same thing and felt the same way. He’d allowed himself to no longer hold back his emotions and wants and it felt intoxicating. He could probably lose himself just thinking of how much he needed Youngjo and all the things he wanted the other to do to him, as well as what he wanted to do to him.

This was a new sense of desperation, different from the one of that Friday.

That night he’d been chasing the way Youngjo would make him feel.

This time, Youngjo was all he needed.

Heat spread over his body as they pulled up outside a tall apartment complex, just as luxurious as the restaurant they’d just been to. But Hwanwoong didn’t think about that this time. His mind was chanting a mantra of the other man’s name and he was trying to control his body from doing something rash.

Youngjo seemed to be facing the same struggle. They wordlessly stepped out of the car and walked to an elevator. The taller man pressed the button to call for it and they waited side by side until it arrived. Youngjo motioned for Hwanwoong to get inside first, and the other complied.

The apartment was on the ninth floor, higher than Hwanwoong had ever been in a building. Once the lights had been switched on, he could see that it was very spacious and decorated in neutral colours and modern furniture. Right in front of them, a wall of the living room was completely made of glass and provided a breathtaking view of the city below them.

Fascinated, Hwanwoong toed off his shoes and walked towards it. He looked out of it into the distance. “Wow,” he let out, watching the lights of the busy city.

“Yeah, I love the view,” Youngjo said, “I sometimes just sit and watch everything happening. I can’t make much out from this high, but it’s mesmerising. I could look at it for hours.”

Hwanwoong hummed in agreement. He could definitely see himself getting lost in the beautiful view if he lived there.

Youngjo reached a hand out, placing it under his chin and pulling it up so they could lock eyes. “There’s another view I could look at for hours,” he said softly.

The smaller man smiled at those words. He knew that Youngjo could be corny, had learned so during their previous encounter, but he liked it. Those words didn’t make him cringe like he would have thought. Instead, he felt his heart flutter at them.

Youngjo leaned down and kissed him again, lightly. He kissed back, eyes slipping shut and getting lost in the sensation. There was something so intimate about kissing like this, romantically instead of lustfully, in Youngjo’s apartment. He cupped the other’s face, stroking his soft skin with his thumbs.

Youngjo hummed, lips vibrating against his, and put his own hands on Hwanwoong’s shoulders. He caressed him through the suit jacket and shirt he was wearing, fingers slipping further down to brush across his collarbones that could still be made out underneath them before gripping onto the jacket’s lapels.

Hwanwoong broke away from the kiss only to press his lips against Youngjo’s once again, this time a little harsher than before. One of his hands trailed down from his face to brush against his neck and land on the other’s tie, gripping the fabric tightly and tugging it to deepen the kiss. As Youngjo pushed back with equal force and pressed their bodies closer to one another Hwanwoong could feel his dick begin to harden against his crotch. Blood was already rushing to his own groin as well and he had to contain himself from pushing Youngjo against the couch nearest to them.

His arousal didn’t go unnoticed, however. Youngjo let go of the jacket and held him by his waist. His fingers ran down his spine as they made their way there, making him tense in his hold as chills ran down it, and briefly brushed over his ass before taking hold of him. Hwanwoong groaned and felt Youngjo smirk against his lips. He could feel himself getting harder and didn’t think he would be able to hold back for much longer before giving in to his arousal.

He pulled at Youngjo’s tie in an attempt to begin unfastening it, but one of Youngjo’s hands was quick to stop him from doing so. The taller man broke the kiss and looked down at him. “I don’t usually have sex on the first date,” he whispered.

“We’re more complicated than that,” Hwanwoong tried to reason.

“You’re not wrong,” the other chuckled darkly, “But let’s be a bit more modest at least. How about we take this to the bedroom instead of in here?”

“Lead the way,” Hwanwoong agreed, kissing him one more time as he said this.

Youngjo’s bedroom was much bigger than Hwanwoong’s one, that was certain. He didn’t get to see much of it though before Youngjo was kissing him again. He moaned into the kiss, bracing himself on the other’s shoulder and pressing himself close to him, feeling his dick brush against Youngjo’s leg.

Youngjo’s hands wandered across his back until they made their way up to his shoulders and the tips of his fingers slipped underneath the fabric of his clothes. They stilled, waiting for Hwanwoong’s confirmation to keep going. The other broke the kiss to give it before moving down to kiss Youngjo’s neck. He sucked on the exposed skin, feeling the other’s smooth hands trace patterns on his back.

“There’s something so hot about you wearing my clothes,” Youngjo said.

“Well, I want to take yours off,” Hwanwoong replied against his neck.

Youngjo shivered at the feeling. “Desperate?” he teased him.

“After all this time, you can’t imagine how much,” the other told him.

“So am I,” Youngjo said. He undid the top button of Hwanwoong’s shirt, pushing the suit jacket off one of his shoulders as he did so. Once the button was loose, he pushed the fabric of that aside as well and leaned down, pressing his lips to the skin he’d uncovered and running them across it. Hwanwoong shuddered, knees getting weak.

As Youngjo started undoing the rest of the buttons he busied himself with undoing his tie. He was a little lost, not having worn one in a few years, but he eventually managed to untie the knot, the two ends of the tie hanging on either side of Youngjo’s chest. With a sudden urge he couldn’t explain he leaned down and took one of them between his teeth, pulling away until the tie was separated from its wearer and dangling from his mouth.

“Fuck,” Youngjo moaned at the sight. He took the end Hwanwoong wasn’t biting and tugged it, freeing it from the other’s teeth and letting it fall to the ground. “You didn’t do things like that last time,” he said.

“I’m full of surprises,” Hwanwoong smirked up at him, dropping to his knees and reaching for the zipper of Youngjo’s trousers.

He undid it hastily, pulling the clothing down, boxers following them. Youngjo’s dick was now right in front of his face, rock hard, and his mouth watered at the sight.

He leaned forward and took the tip into his mouth. The man above him groaned at the feeling and cursed. He swirled his tongue around the head a few times, collecting some salty precum as he kept going. He took a deep breath and took most of the cock into his mouth, only stopping when he hit his gag reflex. Youngjo’s hand came to bury into his hair.

Hwanwoong gave himself some time to become accustomed to the length in his mouth before taking the rest as well. Once he had the entire penis in his mouth he started moving up and down along the length, laying his tongue flat along the underside, licking as he did so and pressing against the slit as he reached the head again.

Youngjo was moaning loudly, his grip on his hair tightening and his dick leaking more precum. Hwanwoong didn’t want to drive him to orgasm yet, so after a few more licks he pulled away, releasing the dick that was now glistening with his saliva. He licked the inside of his mouth to gather all the precum that had accumulated and looked up at Youngjo who looked the most aroused Hwanwoong thought he’d ever seen him.

The hand in his hair loosened and he stood up. Youngjo wasted no time undoing the last of his shirt’s buttons and tugging at the fabric. “Off,” he said.

Hwanwoong helped him slide both the suit jacket and shirt off his shoulder and onto the floor. The man quickly shrugged his own jacket off and started working on the buttons of his own shirt. His fingers moved fast, the speed with which he tossed the shirt off his body a testament to his excitement.

They kissed again, messier and rougher this time. Their tongues licked along each other’s lips and explored their mouths while hands ran down bare skin. They started moving towards the bed without breaking the contact and Hwanwoong only realised they’d reached it when the backs of his knees hit the bedframe, causing him to fall onto the plush mattress.

He sat still as Youngjo took a seat on his lap, embracing his small body and guiding him to lie down on the bed properly. They lay on top of each other, kissing. Hwanwoong alternated between kissing Youngjo’s mouth, jaw, neck and shoulders and his hands moved further down, searching for his cock.

Before he could reach it, however, Youngjo took hold of his hands and pinned them over his head. He gasped.

Youngjo’s gaze instantly softened and he let go, looking him over. “Was that too much?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Hwanwoong replied, licking his lips, “I liked it.”

He’d already let Youngjo dominate him once on the night they’d met, but the man had been gentler and softer that time, primarily trying to comfort him and show him care. This time was different.

They were longing for each other out of the way being apart had made them feel. He was being dominated again but in a different way, and his heart was racing at this new side of Youngjo that he was seeing. He liked being dominated in this way, and he couldn’t deny how aroused he’d felt when he’d been pushed down by the other man.

Youngjo seemed to understand that as well. He retook the other’s hands in his and sucked on his neck. “You’ve done so much to me already tonight,” he said as he did, “I think it’s time I repay the favour.”

His eyes glowed as he got an idea and he got up from where he’d been lying on top of Hwanwoong to go to the pile of their clothes on the floor. The other watched him intently, waiting to see what he’d thought of. He gulped when Youngjo got up holding the tie he’d pulled off him only minutes ago. The man walked over to him with the fabric in hand.

He settled on top of him again, holding the tie up to his hands and pausing so that Hwanwoong could tell him to stop if he felt uncomfortable. On the contrary, realising what Youngjo had thought of, Hwanwoong’s back arched slightly just at the imagination of it. “Fuck, yes,” he groaned.

He gave his confirmation one more time to reassure Youngjo that he was comfortable and then felt the man wrap the tie around his connected wrists and tug the fabric into a tight knot, binding them together over his head. He used the remaining few inches of the tie to secure his bound hands to the headboard of the bed, checking to make sure the knots he’d made were tight enough to hold but not hurting Hwanwoong.

“Tell me to untie you if you don’t feel right at any point,” he told him.

“Okay,” Hwanwoong promised. He loved how caring and considerate Youngjo was with him, even when they were being rougher than the first time they’d been together.

He felt intoxicated. During his years of being sexually active he’d been both dominated and the dominator. He’d been in multiple situations before, but this was a first for him. He was completely pliant for Youngjo to do whatever he wished to, but it didn’t feel frightening at all. He knew that Youngjo was going to treat him well and make sure he wasn’t hurt, and that was one of the reasons he felt so good in his current position. He knew how much trust was required for something like this, and he felt that with the other man, hadn’t even hesitated.

He knew very well that he wasn’t going to regret this.

Youngjo undid his trousers and pulled them down for him, tossing them onto the floor. “Is this okay?” he asked.

“More than okay. Keep going, please,” Hwanwoong begged, so needy and eager at that point.

The other did as he said, removing his underwear afterwards. He caressed Hwanwoong’s thighs, feeling him tense up underneath him and causing Hwanwoong to gasp. He took his own trousers and boxers off completely, leaving them both naked. He lay down and captured Hwanwoong’s lips in a kiss.

“I can’t believe we’re together again,” he said when he pulled away.

“I thought about this so much,” Hwanwoong confessed, “But this is better than anything I could have ever imagined.”

“Thank you for coming back into my life, Yeo Hwanwoong,” Youngjo said.

Hwanwoong was about to respond when Youngjo leaned down and took one of his nipples into his mouth. He threw his head back as he moaned. Youngjo flicked the sensitive bud with his tongue and circled it before moving to the other one and eliciting a similar reaction from his partner.

“Youngjo,” Hwanwoong moaned, voice thick, “Please.”

“I’ve kept you waiting too long,” the man acknowledged, releasing the nipple and sitting up.

He rummaged through his nightstand and produced a sealed condom and a bottle of lube. “Do you want me to stretch you out?” he asked.

Hwanwoong nodded. “It’s been a while,” he said, “Since you.”

Still holding the two items, Youngjo leaned down and gently kissed his temple. His lips lingered and it reminded Hwanwoong of the kiss he’d given him before leaving the last time. He didn’t remember it too well as he’d barely been conscious at the time, but this kiss brought back the memory of it. His arousal subsided momentarily as he melted under Youngjo’s lips.

Eventually, Youngjo pulled away. “I didn’t sleep with anyone else either until now,” he said, “It didn’t feel right. I wanted you to be the only one I was intimate with like this.”

“Me too,” Hwanwoong told him, “I kept telling myself I might never see you again but I didn’t want anyone else. You were the only one on my mind. You still are. And I need you so bad, Youngjo.”

“And you’ll have me, darling,” Youngjo promised him.

True to his word, he opened the bottle of lube and repositioned himself as he spread some of the contents on his fingers. He reached down between Hwanwoong’s legs, brushing against his neglected dick in the process and causing him to groan.

He pushed one finger through his rim and into his entrance and Hwanwoong’s toes curled around the sheets. It felt so good as Youngjo pushed the finger in and out, making him feel full once again, just in the way he’d wanted.

It wasn’t long before he asked for a second one and Youngjo was quick to fulfill his request. The second finger felt exhilarating, and Hwanwoong made a loud noise of pleasure as Youngjo began to scissor him, starting gently and picking up the pace as he loosened up around them.

Hwanwoong’s dick was aching from not being touched the whole time. He wanted to reach down and stroke himself so badly, but his hands were bound and he couldn’t move them. He couldn’t do anything to please himself, relying completely on Youngjo to bring him to his release and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

By the time a third finger had joined the other two he was writhing beneath the other man, his eyes stinging with tears of desperation. His hands were clenched tightly, fingers digging into the fabric that held them together and his mouth had fallen open as he panted. He could feel sweat dripping from his forehead.

“I’m ready,” he breathed, “I’m ready, Youngjo.”

At his words, the other pulled his fingers out, causing him to clench at the loss. Youngjo tore the condom’s packet and pulled it out, slipping it on carefully. He returned to his position between Hwanwoong’s legs and lined himself up with his entrance. His hand that wasn’t sticky with lube came up to stroke at his cheek to help him relax. Hwanwoong leaned into the touch and his muscles became less rigid. He nodded to let Youngjo know that he was ready for him.

“Take a deep breath,” Youngjo said as he pushed the head of his cock into him.

Hwanwoong gasped. His partner only put the head inside at first, gradually sinking further inside so he could have time to adjust to the feeling. He moaned when his entire member had entered him and was surrounded by the heat of Hwanwoong’s body. He clenched around him when his pelvis connected with his body and Youngjo moaned his name.

“You can move,” Hwanwoong told him when he was accustomed to the stretch.

The drag of Youngjo pulling his dick out still burned when the other started moving, but the pleasure from when he pushed back inside made the pain enjoyable. The lube that was still inside him made the process easier, and soon Youngjo was thrusting inside him at a faster pace, Hwanwoong moaning in time with them.

Youngjo let out an exclamation of pleasure when the other man started moving to match his thrusts. Their bodies came together at the same time, pushing them even further onto one another and intensifying their pleasure. Youngjo’s cock was hitting Hwanwoong’s prostate with every thrust and caused him to clench his hands around the tie even tighter and his back to arch, bringing him closer to Youngjo. Their chests brushed against each other, mixing their sweat and sending shivers coursing through their bodies at the added contact of their skin.

Youngjo snaked one of his arms underneath Hwanwoong’s arched back to hold him and steady him as he continued to thrust into him.

“So good,” Hwanwoong panted, “You make me feel so good, Youngjo. You fuck me so well.”

“Shit, Hwanwoong, you’re so amazing,” the other responded, moaning loudly and leaning down to suck on his collarbone, “I want to make you feel like a prince, just like you deserve to be treated.”

“You treat me even better,” Hwanwoong told him and rutted his hips against his pelvis.

The angle he was in allowed him to lick a strip of skin from the back of Youngjo’s earlobe to his neck. The slick feeling made the man throw his head back in a groan, giving Hwanwoong access to his throat that he immediately latched on to, beginning to such a hickey on that spot. He couldn’t use his hands to repay the pleasure Youngjo was giving him, so he was going to use the other means he possessed. He grazed the skin with his teeth and almost bit down a little too harshly when a rough thrust made him fall apart.

He couldn’t fathom how amazing he was feeling. Neither of them was holding back, making loud noises and giving each other everything they had. Despite the fact that they hadn’t seen one another for some time, their bodies responded to the circumstances as if not even a day had passed. They were already familiar and knew how to drive each other to the edge and fill them with immense pleasure.

Youngjo used the hand that isn’t holding Hwanwoong to cup his ass as he fucked into him, increasing the pace with which he was thrusting in and out of him. He kneaded the skin and Hwanwoong keened beneath him. The smaller man could feel his orgasm building up, the familiar heat coursing through his body. And when Youngjo’s hand moved up and finally took hold of his cock he cried out, some tears leaking out of his eyes. He fell back down onto the bed, tugging at his bound hands as his entire body reacted to the touch.

“Please don’t stop,” he panted.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Youngjo replied. He wrapped his hand around the hard length and moved his fist along it. Hwanwoong had already been leaking so much precum that it only took one stroke until his hand was lubricated enough for the friction of the action to not hurt.

He gave it a few more strokes before Hwanwoong felt extremely close to his climax. When Youngjo pressed his thumb over the slit during one of them, his hips bucked forward, lifting off the bed and pushing Youngjo’s cock even deeper inside him. They both moaned loudly and Hwanwoong knew that he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer.

“I’m close,” Youngjo groaned right as he thought that.

“I’m close too,” he said, and whispered to him in a sultry voice, “You can go harder.”

Youngjo looked into his face for further confirmation before doing as told. He picked up the pace, thrusting in and out faster. The sound of skin hitting skin became louder and Youngjo’s hand that had been holding him went to the back of his head, lifting it so he was closer to Youngjo and the man pulled him into a kiss.

Their lips latched onto each other, the kiss itself messy and accompanied by their sounds of pleasure. Their teeth accidentally clanked a few times, but they didn’t linger on any of them.

Hwanwoong was sucking on Youngjo’s lips as the other stroked his dick when he felt his orgasm closer than ever.

Youngjo climaxed first, his cock hitting Hwanwoong’s prostate as he did. He gasped against the smaller man’s lips. The sight of him looking fucked out like that combined with a well-timed stroke of his dick and a finger grazing his slit was what finally pushed him over the edge and he came in Youngjo’s hand with a moan of the man’s name.

Youngjo collapsed on top of him, his head falling onto Hwanwoong’s shoulder. For a few seconds they lay still like that, coming down from their highs. They were both breathing heavily, their chests rising and falling disjointedly against one another’s.

Eventually, Youngjo slowly wiped his hand of the sweat and Hwanwoong’s come that had gathered on it on the bed covers and brought it up so he could stroke the other’s face, looking at him with a soft expression. “You’re so beautiful,” he said as he did so. Hwanwoong blushed at those words.

Composing himself a little more, the other sat up and carefully undid the knots connecting the tie to the headboard and then the ones holding Hwanwoong’s hand together. He let the tie fall off the edge of the bed and took both of his hands in his, stroking his wrists. He lifted them to his lips and tentatively kissed them both. “I hope I didn’t hurt you,” he said.

“You could never hurt me,” Hwanwoong reassured him. He didn’t have to worry about something like that. He knew very well that Youngjo would never cause him any harm, regardless of how rough or not they were being.

“That was incredible,” he said.

Youngjo picked him up in his arms and cradled his body close to his where he was sitting on the bed. “I can’t believe I almost lost you,” he said.

Hwanwoong didn’t want to think about that anymore. He’d spent so much of his life being pessimistic and expecting the least, but he had been shown that day that he could achieve so much more than that. He also sat up and pressed his lips to the other man’s cheek.

“But you didn’t,” he told him, “I’m right here.”

He wrapped his arms around Youngjo and snuggled close to him, even more so when the man hugged him back.

They held each other until their condition became too uncomfortable to not do anything about. Youngjo got up so he could throw away the used condom.

“No baby wipes this time?” Hwanwoong teased him when he saw him return empty handed from the bathroom.

“I was actually going to ask if you wanted to take a shower,” Youngjo responded, and he couldn’t deny such a tempting offer.

They showered together, still unable to be separate after reuniting. Youngjo washed Hwanwoong’s hair, massaging his scalp and combing through the strands delicately. The smaller man had closed his eyes and leaned back against him as he enjoyed the feeling. He returned the favour once he was done.

And if Youngjo had to lean down a bit so he could reach him better that was between only the two of them.

Youngjo gave him a fluffy towel that he could use to dry himself and wrap up in until he could get him some clothes to wear instead of the ones he’d been wearing all day. Hwanwoong had tried to refuse, but the other had insisted, and so he found himself sitting on the bed and watching as the man searched through his wardrobe for clothes that would fit him.

Amidst that search, Youngjo proposed that Hwanwoong simply spend the night and go home the next day, since it had gotten late and he wouldn’t be able to catch a bus or walk the long distance, seeing as he had already refused the other man’s offer to drive him back to his apartment.

“I couldn’t impose on you like that,” Hwanwoong shook his head.

“Woong,” Youngjo told him, not even noticing the pet name, “Trust me when I tell you that you wouldn’t be. I spent so many nights wishing I could hold you while you slept like I did that night.”

Hwanwoong couldn’t say anything to that, having shared that wish himself.

“Alright,” he said and Youngjo’s face lit up with joy.

He gave him some pyjamas he could wear and they both remade the bed after he’d changed into them, having made a mess on it.

When they finally lay down, spent after the long day they’d both had, Hwanwoong laid his head on Youngjo’s clothed chest and let the other man embrace him like that. He felt the rise and fall of his chest as the man breathed and closed his eyes.

He’d felt good at multiple parts of the day, but this one couldn’t compare to any of them. He was so serene and in peace that it made him emotional. It just felt so normal to be ending his day this way, in Youngjo’s arms and cuddled up to him. The other man’s presence filled him with so much calmness that he felt so light and euphoric.

Youngjo carded his fingers through his still wet hair and that was when he knew for sure that this was how he wanted to spend his nights.

“Promise not to leave tonight?” he asked softly, almost inaudibly.

Youngjo laughed lightly. “This is my apartment,” he replied, “How would I do that?”

Hwanwoong snickered and shoved at his chest in retaliation.

Chuckling, Youngjo pulled him even closer to him. Then, no longer teasing, he kissed his forehead sweetly.

“I promise,” he said, “I’m never leaving again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaand the end!!! Kinda. Well~~~ if you follow me on Twitter you'll know that I teased thinking of a third part for this, and since then the thought has not left me and I have developed an idea I really like for it. So that's something I would say you can look forward to!! It might take some time again, but I'll try my best to be a little faster.  
> As for the kink in this story... Blame Criminal Woong, okay?  
> Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed reading this. I hope it was worth the wait. Please let me know your thoughts as I love chatting with you guys.  
> And come be moots on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/jinnius_lek) and scream over the Devil comeback with me!! I'm nice, I promise.  
> Hope you all have a wonderful day/night!!


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